


Pressure Sensitivity

by longleggedgit



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-19
Updated: 2014-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-09 06:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1142618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/longleggedgit/pseuds/longleggedgit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inui's shoulder hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pressure Sensitivity

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/profile)[**marksykins**](http://marksykins.livejournal.com/) in 2007. Thanks to [](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://anjenue.livejournal.com/)**anjenue** for the beta. ♥

It should be a perfect afternoon.

It’s a Saturday, and Inui finished all his homework Friday night. He called Kaidoh that morning and asked him to join him at the tennis courts for a practice game, because he predicted it was the only outing he could propose that Kaidoh would feel comfortable agreeing to, and, after some coaxing, Kaidoh did. Inui showered ahead of time, even though he knew he would need to shower again afterwards, and he put on clean workout clothes and left twenty-two minutes earlier than necessary to meet Kaidoh at the park. He only had to wait for six before Kaidoh showed up early himself.

It should be a perfect afternoon, but it is being effectively ruined by the fact that Inui can’t play tennis.

“. . . Double fault,” Kaidoh says from the other side of the net, reluctantly, and Inui lowers his racket and raises his left hand to hold his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Kaidoh,” Inui says for the fourth time. “I seem to have strained a muscle at yesterday’s practice.”

Inui curses himself silently for not paying more attention to the dull ache in his arm after his game against Kikumaru. He should have known it required attention when it continued to hurt even after a hot shower.

“We can stop, senpai,” Kaidoh says, lowering his racket as well.

Inui tries to hide his disappointment and nods once before heading to the bench to pick up his water bottle. A sharp jolt shoots through his shoulder at the movement, and he frowns and grabs it again.

“Does it hurt?” Kaidoh asks. He is much closer than Inui realized, and he jumps a little at the sound of his voice, turning to face him.

“It’s not so bad,” Inui says. Kaidoh gives him a look.

Inui sighs and takes a seat on the bench. “Sorry,” he says. “This was a somewhat pointless venture.”

Kaidoh just snorts. Inui wonders if Kaidoh thinks he’s stupid. He’s debating asking him when two hands descend on his shoulders and he tilts his head back, startled, to find Kaidoh standing behind him on the other side of the bench.

“Sit upright,” Kaidoh grumbles. Inui hastens to obey. “Tell me where it hurts most.”

“Ah,” Inui says sharply when Kaidoh’s fingers begin to work the tender muscle. “That’s – about right,” he manages.

Kaidoh doesn’t reply, but moves his hands a little more softly in the same area. Inui does his best not to slide off the bench into a quivering puddle on the ground. In truth, he’s fairly confident Kaidoh’s hands are marginally more unsteady than usual. He’s not complaining.

“You should take better care of yourself,” Kaidoh says, in what is likely an attempt to break their heated silence. “You always lecture me when I don’t tend injuries.”

Inui doesn’t know how to answer that, because Kaidoh is of course correct. He frowns as he tries to formulate a response, then realizes, when Kaidoh’s grip on his shoulder begins to tighten to the point of being quite painful, he’s maybe taking a bit too long.

“Kaidoh,” Inui hisses through clenched teeth, shoulders tensing, and Kaidoh jerks his hand away in an instant.

“I’m sorry, Senpai –“ Kaidoh begins, but the words die in his throat as Inui catches his hand out of the air, ignoring the pain the movement elicits, and presses his lips to Kaidoh’s open palm.

“. . . Senpai,” Kaidoh repeats, dumbly.

“Thank you,” Inui says, words still muffled by Kaidoh’s hand. It’s weird and spontaneous and probably not very smart, but Inui likes the way Kaidoh’s palm smells, likes that he can taste the sweat and dirt on it. He’s going to hold on until Kaidoh pulls away. And then he’s going to think up a very hasty excuse for his behavior.

Kaidoh doesn’t pull away, however, and the part of Inui’s head that’s still focused on things like logic and observation notices that he’s allowing this to go on far longer than could possibly be hoped for. When Kaidoh leans forward and Inui feels the weight of his lips against the top of his head, he’s fairly confident he’s lost control of most of his fine motor functions.

“You’re welcome,” Kaidoh murmurs into his hair.

Inui doesn’t need to look up to know his face is bright red.

_end_  



End file.
